


Show Me How A Kiss Should Feel

by blarfkey



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cole is surprisngly good at it, F/M, First Kiss, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Virginity, he's watched people from the fade, now featuring smut!, now he gets to see it for himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27329890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blarfkey/pseuds/blarfkey
Summary: "What does a kiss feel like?"An innocent question from Cole leads to some borderline not innocent actions and definitely not innocent thoughts for poor Inquisitor Cadash, who just wanted to give him a haircut.
Relationships: Female Cadash/Cole (Dragon Age)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 53
Collections: A Paragon of Their Kind Dragon Age Dwarf Exchange





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunspot (unavoidedcrisis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unavoidedcrisis/gifts).



> I am very, very into this. Who knew?

"What does a kiss feel like?"

Cole is lucky Cadash has steady hands. The scissors twitch in her grip and only sheer off a few strands of his hair in a slightly crooked angle she can easily course correct.

They do this every few weeks. Cole's hair grows like a weed and she hauls him on the balcony, sits his ass in a chair, and trims his bangs. It started when he almost got gutted by a pride demon because he couldn't see through his hair and now they have a standing appointment.

Cadash doesn't mind. She loves to card her fingers through his thick hair until it shines like gold thread through her hands. Cole spends the time humming or feeding her the latest gossip from the Tavern. He's a better spy than Baron Von Plucky -- it's a shame Leliana gives him a wide berth.

But this question has come out of the wide blue sky and Cadash has to admit -- it throws her for a loop.

"Why are you asking that?" she says.

"I hear about it all the time. Cassandra and her books. Varric and  _ his _ books. Krem in the tavern. Bull . . .also in the tavern. And in the library. And in the kitchens. And --"

"Okay! I get it! I mean, kissing is the first little step in romance or sex, I guess. And we're all stressed the hell out so I'm not surprised you hear a lot about it. Though, I have to ask -- who is Krem thinking about in the tavern?"

"Maryden. He loves the way she sings."

Cadash throws a little fist bump in the air. "I  _ knew it!  _ I called that weeks ago. Varric owes me five coppers."

She returns to her task and Cole obediently holds up the small towel used to catch the bits of hair so they can throw it to the birds. It takes only a few minutes before she's satisfied, setting the scissors down on the railing in favor of brushing the bits of hair from his cheeks and forehead.

His eyes flutter close, his lashes almost colorless against skin that has grown pinker and warmer in the weeks since that fateful day they hunted down his Templar. Cadash is struck, suddenly, at how . . .normal he looks, for lack of a better word.

When he first appeared in Haven right before the shit really hit the fan, he had been almost translucently pale. He moved like a shadow, flitting in between her perceptions, spouting cryptic remarks that sounded more like a spy code than conversation. He never slept or ate, sat unnaturally still, his chest stuttering sometimes in a rise and fall, as if he had to remind himself to breathe.

They had called him the Ghost of the White Spire and that's what he felt like, at times. A ghost. Not of this world but not fully apart from it either.

Now he sits in a chair, limbs gangly like a new colt, face tipped towards the sun, the hint of freckles starting to appear on the bridge of his nose.

Fondness digs its fingers into her heart.

"All done," she murmurs.

His eyes flutter open, blue as the sky above them.

"Will you answer my question," he asks.

Cadash, caught up in fixing his bangs, forgot about it completely. To her surprise she feels herself blushing a little. How do you explain this?

"I don't know if I  _ can  _ answer that question. It feels different to everybody. Sometimes it's great, sometimes it sucks. It all just depends on the person you're kissing and how you feel about them.”

Her fingers tug through his hair absently. 

“I guess it’s just something you have to experience for yourself.”

He listens to her with a wide, solemn gaze, as if she's imparting the wisdom of the ages.

"Can I experience it with you?"

This time he's  _ really _ lucky the scissors are safely resting on the balcony railing. 

"You want  _ me _ to kiss you?"

Her cheeks definitely feel hot.

"Yes."

"So you'll know what it feels like?"

"Yes."

A kiss. It's a simple, innocent request. It would take mere seconds for her to lean forward and peck him on the mouth with all the sweetness of a mother and her son or a sister and her little brother.

But they are not family. And she finds, strangely, that she would not want to kiss him like one.

"I'm not sure I'm the best person to ask." She swallows and hopes to God he isn't listening to her thoughts right now. "Don't you want your first kiss to be with someone you're dating?"

He tilts his head to the side, almost like a bird. "Is a first kiss special?"

"Um -- yeah. To most people. It's certainly memorable.”

"Then I want it to be with you. I like you. You take care of me and you've never been afraid of me."

Her heart twists in her chest. "Sweetheart, that's kind of a low bar for expectations," she says. "I'm not the only one who cares about you."

"You're also beautiful and kind and you make me smile."

Look, over the years she has been fed a lot of lines. Nothing has quite matched this blunt, earnest sincerity and the riot of butterflies it inspires takes even her by surprise.

"Well . . .how can a girl say no to that?" she jokes weakly

If she didn't know better, she would wear one corner of his mouth twitches up into a smirk.

Ok. You know what? He is getting a kiss. He is getting a kiss that would knock his fucking ridiculous hat off if he hadn’t already taken it off. 

At the very least she is going to wipe that smirk off his face.

With her standing and him sitting, they are roughly at eye level. It takes little effort at all for Cadash to cup his face, sliding her fingers into his hair, thumbs skating over his cheekbones.

"Close your eyes, silly," she tells him.

"Right." His eyes slip closed and she takes a moment to drink in the sight of him, face tipped expectantly to hers, before she presses her lips against his.

His mouth is warm and dry. He stays completely still as she kisses him, as if cataloging every press of her lips to his. It feels disconcerting, honestly, but he makes no move to kiss her back.

Slightly disappointed and weirded out by that, Cadash breaks contact and starts to pull away.

But then Cole's hands cup the sides of her neck, his fingers long enough to meet in the middle over her spine, and pull her back to him.

He kisses with zero hesitation, copying the movements she had shown him earlier with growing enthusiasm. His hand slides into her hair, the other down to the middle of her back, pushing her closer to him, until she's caught between his legs, chest pressed up against his.

It occurs to her, like a distant echo of rationality, that maybe she should shut this down. Things are getting heated in a way she  _ never _ expected from him, and part of her wonders if he really knows what he's doing or where this could be heading --

But then Cole brushes his tongue experimentally against her lips and Maker's fucking balls this little shit knows exactly what he's getting himself in for.

And she's not about to be outdone by a fucking spirit--person--whatever who's never kissed a soul in his centuries of existence.

So Cadash tilts her head a little and licks the seam of his mouth, coaxing his mouth open until she can slide her tongue against his. A startled gasp that melts into a small groan rumbles in his chest and it just obliterates the tiny rational voice in her head like one of Dorian's explosion spells.

Though Cole's hand never takes liberties Cadash would frankly give him at this point, his mouth kisses hers with utter filth. To be fair -- she started it. He does nothing she doesn't initiate first. But the second after she sucks down on his lower lip, or scrapes her teeth across it, he applies the same technique with unmerciful abandon.

Soon it's  _ her _ that's moaning, breathless, fingers scraping across his scalp until he shudders ever so slightly beneath her. It's her molding her body to his as close as space permits, relishing the new signs of life from him -- the heat of his chest seeping through her shirt, the pulse beating wildly under her thumb as she cradles his face, stuttering breaths against her mouth.

It's her that wants to drag him into that bedroom and --

Cole's finger's tighten almost painfully in her hair and he gasps against her, plucking that thought from her mind. She jerks back , breaking the kiss, a spider's thread of spit between them for a moment before it snaps.

"I think -- I think we should stop," she says, breathless. "Before I take your first -- something else."

Andraste's tits, this was  _ Cole _ she was talking about dragging to bed with her. And yet, his eyes look at her like he wants to drag her into that bedroom himself, which does not suggest the innocence she thought he possessed.

"Who did you kiss before," she demands. "No kiss virgin kisses like that."

"I know what kissing  _ looks  _ like," he says indignantly. "I’ve seen it, many many times. I just wanted to know what it  _ felt _ like."

"Well . . ." she says, feeling oddly flustered. "Now you know."

"Yes . . " he tilts his head to side, giving her that look that always makes her feel so transparent --

\-- And now she's thinking of seeing through clothes and really she has got to watch her dirty mind before she scars him for life and --

"There are other things I'm curious about," he says to her. "Perhaps you'd be willing to show me some day?”

There's no way he's possibly insinuating -- 

The corner of his mouth quirks up just the tiniest bit.

Cadash swallows, mouth suddenly dry. Oh boy. Ooooh boy. "I’ll -- I’ll think about it.”

“Alright.” Cole blinks and any trace of that heated gaze disappears, replaced by his usual wide-eyed innocence. 

He stands up cradling the towel before shaking it out over the railing. Cadash brushes stray bits of hair off his shoulders and his chest, lingering on the space over his heart. 

It flutters like a bird’s.

“Thank you,” he says, “for always helping me.”

“Any time,” she says. “You know I’m always willing.”

And then she immediately flushes, her thoughts taking that phrasing and twisting it into something less innocent.

“Yes,” he agrees placidly, but that’s a hint of a spark in his eye. 

Dear God, she’s created a monster. 

“Go,” she says, shooing him away with her hands. “Go -- swindle something from the kitchens, now that you’re human.”

“I don’t eat,” he says, bemused. 

“You’ll probably have to start.”

“Perhaps. Either way, I will go.”

Before he steps away, Cole bends down and presses his lips against the crown of her head. 

She watches him go with a less than innocent sort of longing. It makes itself at home next to a timid flutter of something pure and sweet, something so alien to her and her life before the Inquisition she almost can’t bear to name it.

Maybe she’ll show him all the places he can kiss next. Or maybe she’ll show him how to bake cookies he won’t eat. But either way, she suspects, Cole has wormed his way into her future. 

And maybe he’ll show her how a couple other things feel.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cole asks for another kiss and it leads to sex. 
> 
> This is the sex chapter.

“Could I have another hair cut?”

She looks up at him from her desk, where she’d been pouring over some reports Leiliana passed on to her. In the four weeks since the previous haircut (and unexpected kiss), she’s been run ragged kicking the red templars out of Emprise Du Leon and freezing her ass off. 

And his bangs had grown slightly shaggy again. Not enough to warrant another trim, if she’s honest. But she had left Cole at Skyhold this time and she found, trekking through that frozen hell hole and hunting for dawnstone so Iron Bull could have a bright pink axe, that she missed his presence. Most people find his continual mind reading rather creepy, but it’s weirdly soothing to her. 

Passive aggression doesn’t really work with someone like Cole. He can see right through a lie and blab all your secrets. It’s nice to be with someone with whom she does not have to pretend and just be herself.

“Sure,” she says, pulling open the desk drawer and plucking out the small scissors. “Grab my chair.”

She heads out to the balcony and Cole dutifully takes her desk chair and follows her. He takes a seat and places his hat next to him on the stones. The familiarity of routine soothes them both as she combs her fingers through his hair, detangling the mess from his hat, combing it down flat over his eyes. The white blonde tips barely reach past his eyebrows -- this haircut could definitely wait a couple more weeks. 

A game is afoot. And really, with the way Solas tells her how Cole will take his cues of humanity from those around him, she shouldn’t be surprised he picked up that little habit from her. 

She has a niggling suspicion of what he’s really after, but keeps it to herself. They go through the motions, Cole sitting perfectly, inhumanly still as she snips the strands stick out below her fingers like hay. When she’s done, she sweeps away the pieces, bushing her hands over his shoulders and his chest. 

Before she can pull away, he has captured her hand in his. It’s almost comical how much longer his fingers are than hers, gangling and pale like the rest of him. 

“Could I have another kiss?”

Ah. There it is. He makes this request so sweetly, like a child asking for chocolate, and there’s nothing in his eyes but earnest sincerity -- but she is not fooled. 

He’s been planning this. Probably since the day she got back .

The corner of his mouth twitches  _ ever _ so slightly, and she almost doesn’t catch it before he hides in the kiss he presses on her fingers. 

“Please?”

Just one word, spoken so matter of factly, as if by rote, but it makes her chest flutter. 

“Well,” she says, swallowing. “Since you asked so nicely.”

It starts out just like the first time. She sets the scissors down on the ledge beside her, steps in closer and braces her hands on his shoulders before pressing her mouth to his. 

But unlike the last time, Cole is waiting for her. He slides his hand through her hair to cup the back of her head, his fingers spanning the breadth of her skull in a way that almost makes her shiver, and pulls her closer. There is no moment of hesitation as he figures out what she’s doing -- he goes straight for it, kissing her with unrestrained enthusiasm. 

Like maybe he’s been waiting a while to do it.

A dutiful student, every trick she taught him last time comes back. He nips at her lower lip and sucks on it, his tongue sliding against the seam of her mouth every so often. 

It’s not bad for someone’s second time. Not bad at all. She’s an excellent teacher. 

“You are,” he breathes against her lips, pulling away to kiss her slowly and sweetly down to the hinge of her jaw. “And there is more I can learn.”

Which is  _ not _ something she taught him. And suddenly, several things about this afternoon become clear. 

“Cole . . .are you trying to get me into bed?”

“Yes,” he states, pressing his lips against the shell of her ear. 

As if it were obvious. 

“I thought it was,” he adds. “You said you’d show me the other things. That you were willing to help me with anything I wanted.”

“I didn’t mean it for sex,” she says, breath hitching as his teeth nips at her ear lobe and  _ where did he learn that? _

“But you were thinking it.”

Maker’s balls. 

“Why do you want it so much?”

He pauses, mouth hovering over the spot under her ear lobe, and then pulls away to look at her. “I don’t know. I just do. Perhaps it’s part of being mortal.”

“Lots of people don’t have sex,” she points out. “They don’t like it or they don’t care about it and they certainly don’t need it.”

“This is true. I don’t need it but I am curious about it and . . .I like the way you make me feel.”

She would almost consider his expression almost shy at that last admission if she didn’t know better. Cole is just as good at feigning innocence as she is, however, and you can’t fool a master.

“I better not regret this,” she mutters. 

“You won’t,” he says, the corner of his mouth tipping up. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Will you now?” She crosses her arms. “That’s a pretty confident answer from someone who has no idea what the hell he’s doing.”

“I have seen mortals have sex,” he protests. 

“Cole, honey, that’s not something you should probably be admitting to.”

He blinks owlishly at her. “Why not? Iron Bull was not trying to hide it.”

Cadash’s eyes flutter closed for a moment. “Please tell me you’re not going to  _ Bull _ for sex tips.”

“He thinks very loudly and without shame. I have learned much from it. But thinking and seeing is not the same as feeling. I want to feel it.”

She swallows at that and opens her eyes. His gaze bores into hers, steady and patient and without even the barest hint of doubt. Now it’s up to her to decide if she should tumble them over a cliff they can’t climb back up. 

He brushes his thumb over her bottom lip. “Please?”

Because he knows what that little word does to her. That manipulative bastard. She has to admire it. He’s learned from the best. 

“Take off your shirt and shoes and sit on the bed,” she says. 

This close she can see his pupils darken at such a command. He stands up, pushing the chair back and towering over her. His fingers dive for the hem of his shirt and her hands dart to stop him. 

“Not  _ here _ . In  _ there _ .”

They’re just high enough that their kissing might be obscured and explained as part of his haircut -- but the people milling down below definitely aren’t going to miss the sudden strip tease of the resident spirit boy. 

“Right,” he says. 

She follows him back into her room, watching him strip off the long sleeved outer shirt and linen undershirt. They hang limply in his hand for a moment.

“Just toss them on the floor,” she says, bending down to unlace her boots. 

He drops them before darting down to pull off his shoes. She remembers a time, not that long ago, when he didn’t know that clothes came off. Now look at him -- conniving his way into her bed and stripping at just an order from her. 

“Is it conniving when all I did was ask for a haircut and a kiss?” he asks. 

What a little  _ shit _ . Oh, she’s going to enjoy this. She’s going to have him gasping and writhing on that bed until he can’t string two thoughts of his own together, much less make any sense of hers, and then they’ll see whose smug. 

He trips slightly over his shoe on the way to the bed at hearing such a thought and Cadash smirks to herself. 

Sitting on the edge of her mattress in just his loose trousers, his chest pale and bearing old scars she’s not even sure are his, he looks almost like an innocent man, barely out of boyhood. Somehow he is all of those things and none of those things. The fact that she gets to show him something new and exciting that he’s frankly unprepared for despite what he may have seen or heard from others -- that’s strangely intoxicating. 

She finishes prying off her shoes and then unlaces and strips off her vest for good measure, leaving her in just her pants and undershirt. 

Using the edge of the bed frame as an extra step, Cadash hauls herself up straddles his lap. Already she can feel the faint rise of his erection brushing against her thigh. Does he know he can take care of that himself? Perhaps that’s what drove him to get a “haircut” today.

“That’s not it,” he murmurs. 

He leans forward to kiss her, but Cadash darts away, tilting his chin up with her nose so she can press her lips there. 

She hums noncommittally against his throat before kissing a trail down to his clavicle. A tiny, hitched breath escapes him when she brushes her lips over the delicate hollow of his throat. Her mouth curves into a smile before she moves to trace the line of his collarbone with the tip of her tongue. He twitches at that, but his hands stay stubbornly at his side. 

That’s fine. She’ll take the challenge of seeing how long he can go without touching her. 

“You make everything a chal--” he starts to say but she chooses that moment to latch her mouth on the side of his neck and suck and all air seems to get knocked out of him. 

That’ll shut him up. She continues her journey up his neck, darting her tongue out every so often or scraping her teeth, feeling his body shiver underneath her. 

“Cole,” she breathes against his ear, hearing his sharp intake of breath. “Cole, are you going to touch me or not?”

“I don’t know how,” he whispers. “You have to show me.”

Oh.  _ Oh _ . He wants it like that, does it? She remembers the flash in his eyes when she ordered him to strip. 

Well. 

She can certainly work with this. 

“Take your hand and slide it under my shirt,” she says, her nose tracing the shell of his ear. 

He obeys, his fingers nudging under the hem of her shirt and brushing against her waist. They’re cold and a little chapped. She makes a mental note to get lotion later. 

“And now,” he asks, as if he doesn’t know. 

“And now you touch me anywhere you want.”

His hand ghost up her rib cage until the brush just barely against the fabric of her smalls. 

What a  _ shit _ . 

“Anywhere?” he asks. 

Her chest is tight with anticipation as he skirts just under the hem of her breast band

“Yes.” It comes out a choked whisper. 

Then his hand trails back over her ribs before skating across her back and okay. It’s on now. It’s fucking on. 

She catches his earlobe between her teeth and bites with just a hint of roughness, smirking inwardly at the way his fingers scrabble against her spine. Then she sucks again, right where his pulse throbs, while sliding her hand into his hair and tugging it. 

A broken gasp bursts from his mouth but she’s not done with him yet. She kisses and licks and bites her way all over his neck, until it bears the marks of her affections so starkly against his pale skin he will have to ask Dorian or -- Maker forbid,  _ Solas _ \-- to heal them away.

By the time she kisses her way back to his lips, Cole is almost shaking beneath her, his hands clutching at her like wreckage in a storm, his breath harsh and staccato. He kisses her fiercely, his hands sliding to cup the back of her head and crushing their bodies together. 

Not to be outdone, Cadash shoves him down by the shoulders until he’s flat on his back. 

He looks up at her with wide, hungry eyes that furrow in confusion when she pulls his hands from her neck and lifts off of him. 

"Stand up," she commands.

He hesitates a split second and she keeps her mind stubbornly blank so he doesn't find what he's looking for. Then he gets to his feet, looking down at her with such trusting anticipation. Maker, he'd really do anything she asked, wouldn't he?

"Yes," he says. "I would."

That amount of trust is downright dangerous, a lesson she learned the hard way in the Carta. It’s a little terrifying to be the person holding it.

Well, hopefully he'll like this.

Her quick little fingers undo the laces and buckles on his pants in short order, yanking them down to his knees. 

"Take them off," she says.

Cole obeys, sliding his gangly legs from the pants, almost losing his balance as he hops ungainly on one foot. The pants lay discarded as she pushes him back onto the bed, the mattress bouncing slightly.

Then she pulls his knees apart, kneels between his legs, and takes his cock into her mouth before he has time to question another thought.

The gasp that erupts from him will live forever in her memories. Joy, shock, arousal, all mingle together in one seamless, aching sound that bursts from his mouth. 

The notoriously quiet Cole cannot be silent as she swallows his length down as far as she can take it. His breath hitches in his throat as if he forgot how to breathe. His fingers twist into the bedcovers until the knuckles are white. When she hollows her cheeks out and sucks, Coles hips nearly come unmoored from the bed, his cock jerking up into her throat until she shoves him back down with firm hands on his thighs.

She bobs her head up and down a few times, stroking him with her tongue, before pulling off with an audible noise, a string of spit trailing after her.

Cole looks as if someone hit him in the face with a shovel.

Cadash smirks. They haven't even gotten to the fun part yet.

"Get up and lay on the pillows," she tells him softly.

Again, he obeys immediately and it does something to her, okay? Of course, she’s used to being obeyed without question as the Inquisitor all damn day long, but this is different. The thought of Cole -- strange, indomitable, and undefinable Cole -- pliant and obedient beneath her sparks arousal in her like lightning on dry grass. 

She practically pounces on him the second he lays down against her pillows, crawling on top of him and capturing his mouth again in a kiss that turns quickly feral and needy. 

His hands sink back into her hair, holding her still as he trails desperate kisses across her jawline, undoubtedly intending to pay her back for all those bruises. She lets him get one good suck in, just underneath the hinge of her jaw, because of the goosebumps it sends down her arm before she grinds her hips firmly against his erection. 

Cole gasps, sharp and sudden, his lips sliding down her neck in shock. She does it again, slower, dragging her body up against it. He’s bigger than she expected. 

“Is that good?” he asks raggedly. 

“It’s not bad.” 

She takes his hands in hers and holds them loosely on either side of his head, using them as leverage to help her roll her hips against him, right up against her clit. Her lips bite down to keep from crying out -- if he can stay preternaturally quiet, then so can she. Another challenge. Cole’s grip flies down to her waist and lower back, pushing her against him as his own hips rise to meet hers. 

It’s fucking with her clothes on and yet it feels goddamn amazing -- too amazing, she realizes as his grip starts to tighter against her and his breath shorts out. 

No way is he cumming like this. Not yet. With great reluctance, she stops, sitting up on her haunches. Cole’s hips buck to chase hers and she shoves him back down with a firm hand on his chest. 

He stills beneath her, but she can tell it’s taking effort. With brisk efficiency, Cadash peels off her shirt and tosses it on the floor beside the bed. Her breast band joins it in short order and suddenly Cole goes still as stone beneath her as he looks. 

He’s seen naked women before, he’s even told her about it. And yet something about her -- hair a wild mess around her shoulders, completely bare from the waist up -- stops him in his tracks. 

It’s incredibly flattering. She can feel the blush travel down her neck to her chest. 

This time she doesn’t issue a command; she just takes his hand and places it gently between the valley of her breasts. Cole needs no other hint. Slowly, reverently, he takes one in hand, thumb brushing across her nipple. 

A whimper catches in her throat. Cole’s eyes narrow, whether in concentration or in response to the challenge of getting her to make noise. His other hand rises up and cups her other breast. Cadash offers herself up to his explorations as he gently fondles her, his eyes narrowed on her face as he watches her reactions. He brushes his thumb over her nipple again, eyes flicking to her mouth when she bite her lip again. 

Then he takes her nipples gently between his thumb and forefinger and  _ pinches _ .

Cadash barely stops the strangled whine that builds in her throat in time.

Not that he wouldn't have felt the hot stab of arousal in her head anyway, judging by his sharpened gaze.

"They're sensitive," he says in wonderment.

She swallows thickly. "Yes. They are."

"I see." Then he leans upwards, arm sliding down to wrap around her lower back, and takes one breast in mouth and  _ sucks. _

A gasp bursts free from her lips, quickly melting into a moan that echoes obscenely around them.

She doesn't have to look at his face to know he's smirking.

His arm tightens around her at the slightest hint of her pulling away, his strength surprising considering how waifish he looks most of the time. Cole holds her against him, his tongue flicking experimentally across the stiff peak and Cadash’s hands slide into his hair, her body bending towards him like a flower to the sun. 

Cole’s teeth scrape across the sensitive bud and Cadash has to clamp her lips tight to keep from howling. He moves from one breast to the next, giving it the same treatment that sends bright sparks of pleasure down her spine and makes little pants of desire hum in her throat. 

He does this with seemingly endless patience, his own pleasure forgotten, until it’s her hips that jerk and twitch against his as she fights the urge to rut against him again. 

Until she can’t take it anymore. 

“Stop,” she gasps, tugging his head from her chest by his hair. 

His eyes flick up to hers, dark blue and fathomless. His tongue darts against his wet lips and she has to tear her gaze away from it. Instead of attacking those pink shiny lips again, Cadash climbs off of him and undoes the laces of her pants with impatient fingers. She’s just as awkward and ungainly as he was in getting off her trousers but she’s too far gone to care and Cole doesn’t even notice. 

He waits for her with all the patience she doesn’t have right now. 

Her pants hit the floor and she wastes no time climbing back on top of him. His hands drift to cradle her face, pulling her close for a kiss. Cadash rolls her hips so his cock slides against her slick, soaked folds just as their lips touch. She feels the startled puff of air against her lips as his breath hitches. 

It’s tempting to return to the slow grind they had going earlier, but he asked for her to teach him and she’s not finished yet. So she presses his hands gently down to the mattress on either side of his face before drifting her fingers between them until it wraps around him.

Then she guides him up inside her. 

She drops herself all the way down to the hilt and it almost knocks the air out of her. He’s longer than any dwarven cock she’s taken and it’s been so long and she’s almost unbearably tight. But nothing compares to Cole’s sharp gasp that echoes in the room, the way his eyes grow wide in shock and wonder, the curve of his spine as he bucks his hips, his shoulders digging into the mattress. 

She stays motionless for a moment, trying to adjust to the burning stretch of him. 

“Am I hurting you?” he asks, hands drifting up to her waist, his eyes narrowed in concern.

“No,” she says, voice vaguely strangled. “Just -- just need a minute. You’re bigger than -- than I thought.”

“I’m sorry.”

She almost laughs. Instead she leans down and kisses him sweetly on his lips. “Don’t be.”

A few moments later she slowly rolls her hips up against his, testing herself. The stretch no longer burns -- instead it feels  _ good _ , a soothe for an ache she’s forgotten she had. She clutches his fingers in hers, pushing back down onto the mattress and uses the leverage to grind her hips against his in a slow, steady rhythm. 

Her head reaches his chin in this position and she uses the angle to press her lips cup the column of his throat, teeth scraping gently over his pulse, hearing a moan stutter from his mouth. 

She captures those lips a moment later in a kiss as deep and slow as the roll of her lips. They pick up a rhythm after that, their kissing matching their fucking. It doesn’t take long for Cole to take control of their pace, thrusting up against her. Eventually he detangles their hands and grips her waist, holding her still as he fucks up against her in a ragged, desperate rhythm. 

He drives so deep, her body so full after so long, that she loses the battle of silent wills. She tries to muffle her cries against the side of his neck, but that just puts her closer to his ear. However, her own ears catch every sound that slips from his lips, every little pant and grunt and strangled moan. 

And then Cole’s body seizes up around her, muscles tight, fingers digging into her flesh, and the most obscene groan of pleasure she’s ever heard a man make escapes him as he clutches her tight and empties himself inside her. 

Holy hell, she thinks, feeling his chest heave beneath her. That was some of the best sex she’s ever had and it was with a clueless . . .whatever the fuck he is. Certainly not a mortal like her. 

She props herself up and looks down at him. 

“Well? Curiosity satisfied?” she asks, trying to go nonchalant. 

He looks up at her in total wonder and she can’t help but feel very smug about it.

“I didn’t know it felt like that,” he says, dazed. 

“It doesn’t always. You’re just a good student,” she teases. 

His expression turns into unbearable fondness as he lifts his hand to brush his fingers over her cheek. 

“You’re a good teacher. And there is still one thing I have left to learn.”

“I mean -- that’s basically sex,” she says. “There are other positions and stuff--”

Cole suddenly lifts her up and flips her on the bed, the mattress bouncing in her impact. He looms over her, blue eyes raking over her body. 

“I want you to feel it,” he says. And then he very carefully ghosts his hand over her cunt, his fingertips brushing over her folds. 

Cadash hisses in response, sensitive and still aching for release. 

“You don’t -- have to,” she says between pants as he slides his fingers between her folds. 

“I know.”

His fingers skate gently over her slick skin, gaze flickering between her cunt and her face as he watches her reactions. Everything feels good in the wake of getting fucked, but nothing that would finish her. Still, she relishes the feel of the pads of his fingers teasing over her skin, circling her clit, dipping into her cunt where his cum has started leaking out. 

“Tell me what to do,” he says softly. “Tell me what you need.”

A dozen different images and sensations flash in her head -- Cole three fingers deep in her cunt, Cole kissing and sucking on her neck, Cole with his head between her thighs --

“Yes. That,” he says happily. “I’ve seen that before.”

He slides down her body and crouches between her legs at the foot of the bed. His hands spread her thighs apart and bends down to lick her gently on her folds. 

“Cole -- that’s not -- you don’t have to,” she stammers between the questing flicks of his tongue. “You just came down there and you’re probably not going like it.”

“This isn’t for me,” he says, eyes locked on hers. “This is for you. Now tell me. What to  _ do _ .”

A command to be commanded. Fuck, how is it  _ Cole  _ of all people helping her discover new kinks?

“Go easy,” she says shakily. “Swirl your tongue around. Like you did my breasts.”

“Ah.”

He returns his focus back down to the apex of her thighs, mouth pressing more confidently against her. Cadash no longer tries to fight the sounds that he inspires with the flicks and swirls of his tongue. He takes careful note of her responses, repeating movement that makes her gasp and moan and changing technique when she goes quiet again. 

In no time at all she’s writhing on the bed, her hand fisted in his hair as her hips grind against his mouth. Her cunt flutters, empty, and the second she has that thought, he slides a finger into her. She keens in response and he quickly adds another. 

“Yes,” she gasps. “Yes. That.  _ Please _ , Cole.  _ Please. _ ”

Fuck, she’s close, she’s  _ so close _ . She just needs something, a hard pinch to her breast, sucking on her clit -- anything --

Cole’s mouth latches around her clit and he suckles at her with just the pressure she needs and Cadash breaks apart around him, keening loud enough to disturb the birds gathered on the balcony outside. 

So much for that challenge. 

Cole keeps his fingers buried inside her, feeling every ripple of aftershock as she comes down. 

“Did I do good?” he asks, looking up at her beseechingly. 

Her heart twists at such a look.

“Yes,” she says. “You did  _ very good _ .”

His eyes grow bright at the praise, and the tips of his ears grow red. Welp. She’s not the only one discovering new kinks today.

“Come here,” she says, making grabby hands for him. 

He slides his fingers slowly from her cunt -- she hisses at the loss of them -- before climbing up the bed to rest beside her. She turns on her side and nuzzles her face against his chest. 

“This is the last part I teach you,” she murmurs softly. “But the most important. If you care about someone, you always cuddle after sex.”

“And you care for me?” he asks, even as she’s carding her fingers through his hair, even as he can pluck the answer from her mind.

“Very much so.”

“And I care for you.”

“I’m starting to realize just how much,” she says, almost more to herself. 

He gathers her up in his arms and holds her closer. 

“You’re my favorite,” he tells her. 

“I thought Solas was your favorite,” she teases. “Or Varric. They certainly fight over you.”

“It’s always been you.”

Yeah her heart definitely flutters at that. Well, that’s something to analyze for another day, she decides. 

For now she allows herself to hear the steady beat of Cole’s heart -- a new experience -- and savor the moment before they both have to get dressed and return to whatever duties Cadash was doing before. She doesn’t remember. 

“You were --” Cole starts to remind her and she covers his mouth with her hand. 

“No. I don’t want to know. Hush.”

“Alright.”

A long moment passes in blissful silence. Cole’s hand traces a soothing path up and down her back. Cuddling seems to come naturally for him. 

“Could you . . .could you teach me again sometime?” he asks hesitantly. 

At first she hesitates. This whole arrangement is weird and never what she expected and she’s terrified she’s going to fuck something up for him. But if Cole wants to explore this side of mortality at least with her she knows someone is going to take care of him. 

(Not that this would be an entirely selfless gesture on her part. Cole’s eagerness to please and the delicate care he took with her gave her some of the best sex of her life.)

“I’ll teach you anything you want to know,” she promises finally, sneaking a peek at his face.

She catches the blinding brilliance of his smile, as if every Satinalia has come at once, and knows at once this is more than simply a game for him. 

The matching thud of her heart means she’s not just playing anymore either.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a special friend help me with the ending. Thanks darling! You know who you are.


End file.
